Real Men Don't Cry
by queerpoet
Summary: During 2.17. Santana doesn't arrive to stop the Blaine/Karofsky confrontation. Karofsky gets Kurt in a chokehold and forces Blaine to say hateful things. Karofsky POV. Fill for a glee angst meme prompt.


Hobbit shoved me against the lockers. I easily stepped out of his way, and grabbed his wrist. I twisted his arm, and smirked with satisfaction as I heard a loud pop.

He sank to his knees, sobbing out loudly. He looked with confusion at his broken wrist, and tried to touch it.

Lady was at his side instantly. He cradled Hobbit in his arms and murmured, "Blaine? Baby, are you okay?"

I took my opening while they were distracted. Using my considerable bulk, I grabbed onto Lady's arms and pulled him towards me. I forced him into a chokehold, and kicked his shins so he would fall on the ground.

Hobbit didn't have any time to react. He took a step forward, but I simply adjusted my grip and glared at him.

"Karofksy, let him go." he growled, and his attempt at being intimidating was pathetic.

"Sure, I'll let him go. If you tell him he's disgusting. He's a freak and that you don't love him." I said darkly. Lady's pulse beat fast against my arm. He was terrified.

Hobbit's eyes actually watered at my words. His bottom lip trembled. This was going to be good.

"I-" he grimaced and spared a quick look at his wrist. It had turned an ugly shade of purple.

Hobbit inched towards us, and gingerly put a hand on Lady's shoulder.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. His voice reeked of sadness. I rolled my eyes, and cleared my throat loudly.

"No touching, fairy." I said bluntly. "You don't get to make this any easier. Look him in the eyes, and say, "You're ugly. You disgust me. You're a freak. I don't love you." With each sentence, and I felt Lady trembling beneath me. I adjusted my elbow, and squeezed, just a little bit of pressure. "Say it, or he never sings again."

I regarded Hobbit's look of despair with a deep satisfaction. He looked like he was going to throw up. Fairy tears poured freely down his cheeks.

He didn't even look at Lady. His mouth set in a firm line, as he got down on his knees to face his fag lover.

He never broke eye contact with me, as he said the words. His gaze bored inside me, and a cold chill cracked my spine, like a bolt of lightning struck.

Hobbit put both hands on Lady's shoulders, gently rubbing them. It wasn't part of our deal, but I didn't protest.

I was frozen.

"You're disgusting," he began. His eyes seemed pitch black, and I felt the hot burn of hatred. "You're a freak. I don't love you. You're nothing but a sad, pathetic closetcase. You let Kurt go now, or -"

Quicker than I would have thought, he stood up. His uninjured darted out to latch onto my throat.

He squeezed, and I saw a small grin of triumph on his face.

"Or I'll tell everyone in this school that you're not just a bully, Dave." he said roughly. "You're a self-loathing homophobe who beats people up to feel good about himself."

"Let - him - go." His fingers dug in even tighter with each word.

I couldn't breathe. I bucked up against his hand, but couldn't gain any leverage.

I released Lady, and he fell to the floor, gasping noisily.

He immediately stood up, and rested his hand on Hobbit's arm.

"Blaine, honey." he said softly. "Let him go. It's not worth it."

The rage in Hobbit's eyes was gone. Lady's touch softened.

He let me go, and I immediately put a hand to my throat.

"Get the fuck away from me, you freaks." I growled.

Hobbit shrugged into Lady's embrace, and I saw his wrist hanging limply by his side.

"No, Dave." he said sadly. "You're the freak."

They briskly walked away, and I stared straight ahead at the lockers. My throat ached, and I remembered the pleasure he seemed to take in repeating my own words back to me.

A hot clench in my throat. Beads of sweat rolled down my face.

Just sweat. That's all.

I glanced to my right, and watched them walk, getting farther and farther away.

Lady's hand loosely circled Hobbit's waist. They seemed completely lost in each other.

When they finally disappeared, I let the hot and cruel tears spurt from my eyes.

I hugged myself tightly, and tried to forget those horrible words.

_"You're disgusting."_

_"You're a freak."_

_"I don't love you."_

They just kept repeating, in an endless loop.

Harsh, guttural sobs left my throat, and I tried to deepen my embrace.

"You're disgusting," I mumbled to myself. "You're a freak, and nobody loves you."

I tried to keep quiet, so no one could hear.

After all, real men don't cry.


End file.
